Talking to the Wind
by thefirstservant
Summary: It takes a chat atop the Astronomy Tower to make a brave gentleman out of Draco Malfoy. Written for the "You have only 24 hours!" challenge on HPFC.


A/N : Hello there! :)) This was written for the "You have only 24 hours!" challenge on HPFC. The participant would be given a character, prompts, and 24 hours to work on his/her fic. Although I didn't make the deadline, I decided to publish this anyway. The prompts I was given can be found in the note at the bottom. Enjoy!

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><p>If a vortex had appeared in the dungeons at that precise moment, Draco Malfoy would have gladly allowed it to swallow himself whole.<p>

But since the room was vortex-less, Draco had to turn tail and run away.

Everything was a blur. He ran and ran, ran all the way to the other end of the castle, the Astronomy tower. He climbed up the spiral staircase, not stopping until he was slumped against the turret's battlements.

He sat there, slightly stupefied by his run across the castle. The energy he had had left him all at once, leaving him with a sudden emptiness. Like a man awaking from a daze, he sat up and began to think. 

...

He had been in the Slytherin party room, one of the perks of living by the dungeons. All third year Slytherin students and up were there, and, he, a 5th-year prefect, was helping in the supervision of the party.

Everything had been going well until Draco, looking for more paper plates, had opened one of the closets in the large room.

Much to his horror, instead of shelves and (hopefully) paper plates, an imperious-looking, though wizen man, with white hair and wrinkled all over, wearing black robes and a cane in hand, stepped out of the closet and began to approach Draco slowly, with a scowl on his face, with his cane tapping sinisterly on the dungeon floor.

A very familiar man.

Draco had let out something between a gasp and a cry of terror as he backed away from the advancing man. As he tried to get away, however, he had tripped and fallen to the floor. Glaring fiercely at Draco, the strange man loomed over him.

"A shame to your family, aren't you, boy? Filth like you can only bring dishonor!" The old man thundered, with his eyebrows knit together. Draco scrambled back, his mouth dry with fear, and his terrified eyes darting around for a place to escape to. The students had backed away to the walls farthest from the closet. Most echoed Draco's cry while some of the girls shrieked.

Irresponsible, foul, nasty creature you are! House-elves are worth more than you!" The slight man lifted his cane and began to smack it menacingly against his palm. Draco inched back once more. He could see some of the braver students approaching, wands out.

The man turned a bit and saw them as well, causing some to retreat slowly. Draco blinked. He could have sworn that the man's image had flickered into a …werewolf?

But the old man had gone back to glowering at him, as solid as ever, and began to lift his cane. "Well, don't just stare at your elders that way! Say something! Your father should have taught you to act better. But instead you have the manners of a Mudbloo- "

"Riddikulus!" a strong voice cried out. The old man suddenly turned into a hissing snake, which disappeared with another wave of a wand.

Draco, who sat frozen on the cold stone-floor, looked at the wand's owner with wide eyes. It was one of the third-year students, a small girl with dark brown hair that was twisted elegantly on one side. Her hand was trembling slightly as she lowered her wand, staring at him, looking slightly shocked at what she had done. Draco stared back. His ears seemed muffled and the room was a hazy mess. He knew who the girl, but could not remember her name through his panic.

He was not a Slytherin for nothing though, and his mind began to clear slightly in seconds.

The whole room was staring at him. The music had paused and no sound was emitted at all. Draco felt his cheeks beginning to color. He stood up, ignoring the girl's hand.

No one else moved. Through the corner of his eye, he could see Pansy with a glass of punch in her hand, staring at him, mouth agape. Crabbe and Goyle were blinking stupidly, and Blaise was staring at the floor.

Of course. Blaise knew who the old man was.

With a sickening feeling rising in him, he felt the need to leave the room, leave the open closet where the man had come from.

If a vortex had appeared, he would have jumped in. If a Portkey had glowed, he would have grabbed hold of it.

But there was nothing to do but run. So run he did.

...

Draco stared at the starry sky opposite the battlements on the other side of the turret. He felt a little less ill. But there was no denying the lump in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it was a red-eyed Draco that finally calmed down minutes later.

He sighed and turned slightly to stare through hole created by the jagged bricks of the turret. The night sky showed a moon, close to becoming a full circle, and a few stars that littered across the expanse. Then there was a squeaking sound, and Draco heard the door to the turret open behind him.

Footsteps echoed against the low turret walls, but Draco didn't turn around.

"I'm fine, Blaise. You don't have to worry about me. Go back to the party," he mumbled, turning over fully to lean his arm against the top of the wall and digging his face down on his arm.

He blinked in surprise, however, when he heard a decidedly feminine voice answer him dryly.

"Thank you, but I'm not Zabini. And even if I were, I doubt I'd go back in good conscience, seeing your rather sorry state at the moment."

He looked up and turned around. It was the girl who had cast the Riddikulus spell.

Her wand was stowed in one of the pockets of her dress robes, a pretty red dress that reminded him of a Muggle fairy tale he had found in the library a few Christmases ago. Something about a wolf, a grandmother, and a red hood.

The girl's hair shone in the moonlight and he could see her piercing gaze in the faint light. He must _really_ have looked awful since the girl sighed and walked over quickly to sit down next to him against the wall. She gathered her skirts together delicately and watched the night sky with him without saying a word.

However, Draco was no longer interested at watching the stars. Instead, he stared at her. She had a familiar face, and he tried desperately to remember who she was. She had a pretty face, with a sharp nose and firm eyes. She had no dimples but Draco didn't take her for a dimples kind of girl anyway.

And there was the dress. He could have sworn he'd seen that dress before, and not in Little Red Raining Hood either. No, not Raining, _Riding_ Hood. Though why you needed a hood while riding was beyond him.

As he mused over this, an image suddenly came to mind. His mother had held a party at Malfoy Manor over the summer, and he vaguely recalled her mentioning to him the next day about the pretty red dress one of her friends' daughters had worn. Daughters that were in his house at Hogwarts.

"You're that Greengrass girl. Astoria." He heard himself say to the cold wind that whirled around them.

The Greengrass girl nodded, watching the Dog Star twinkle. "Yes. And you're the Malfoy boy."

"Draco," he heard himself offer.

"Draco," she repeated.

Silence reigned once more. Sounds like doors banging and students' voices could be heard.

This time, the Greengrass girl broke the stillness. "Zabini told me you might be here," she told the whistling draft of air.

Draco felt himself nod. Only Blaise knew his sanctuary.

"That…that was your grandfather, wasn't it?" she continued softly.

A pause. Another, much more hesitant, single nod.

Neither of them say anything for a moment. Then,

"And he…he's your boggart?"

A long silence. The wind howls again and the trees in the Forbidden Forest below them swish against one another. The Greengrass girl shifts slightly in her seat, pulling her robes more tightly around her.

Then Draco clears his throat. A hoarse sound emits from deep inside him.

"Yes," he replies softly. "Yes, he is."

A stretch of images fill his mind. _Grandfather Malfoy in the parlor with him. A broken vase at his feet that had fallen from a small Draco's hands. An angry shout and a cane lifted high, high, high.._

He shuts his eyes at the onslaught of memories. There were so many times to remember, so many times he needed to forget.

He opens his eyes to meet two brown ones. Asto—The Greengrass girl was watching him quietly. Draco pulled his gaze away.

"He's been my boggart since I was six. When I was a child, he…he wasn't very even-tempered. He often shouted and cursed, both vocally and magically-speaking, at house-elves, guests, and even members of his family. Even…even me." Draco's voice was low and barely audible.

He glanced at the Greengrass girl. Her eyes met his calmly, slightly troubled perhaps, but not the least bit surprised. He wasn't sure why he was telling her this. There was something comforting about that girl that made it easy to talk and ramble. Draco looked away and continued to mutter to the stony floor.

"I was terrified every time he came to visit. He used to stay with us a lot – Father was his only child. He was nice to me sometimes – used to give me candy and things, but his temper often got the better of him." Draco paused. "Either way, Grandfather…he passed on a few years ago, when I was eight.

He smiled deprecatingly. "Embarrassing, isn't it? My deepest fear is an ancient, white-haired man who also happens to be my dead grandfather." His voice got louder with each word. The chilly wind blustered in reply.

Draco deflated a little and snuck another look at Astor—the Greengrass girl. She was no longer looking at him, but her hand had inched closer to his, like it wanted to comfort him. Draco watched her for a few more seconds before settling back down against the wall.

Everything was quiet again. The students' voices had faded and the lights in the other towers were beginning to dim. Draco vaguely wondered what time it was.

"Did you notice what my boggart was?"

The abrupt question startled him. Draco blinked.

"Uh.."

Inwardly, he cursed himself. Malfoys did not stutter.

"It was a snake," Astor—The Greengrass girl said, carefully watching the moon. Her eyes snap toward his for a second then turn back to the sky.

A snake.

"I was five years old when a snake bit me while I was playing with my sister in a field one afternoon. The snake wasn't poisonous, but I was rather traumatized, to say the least."

"So, after I'd come to Hogwarts, I worried about my boggart for a bit. I mean, what kind of Slytherin is afraid of snakes?" she chuckled quietly. "You can laugh if you like," she added, glancing at Draco. Her hand close to Draco pulled back and began twisting the fingers of her other hand on her lap.

Draco looked back at her.

And he didn't laugh.

There was a slight pause before Astor—the girl continued, with a small, almost satisfied smile tugging at her lips, "So I went up to a bunch of people and asked about their boggarts. I think this was after you, my sister, and the others had Lupin's class on boggarts so a lot of people knew what theirs were."

Draco nodded, glancing at the now pitch-black Forbidden Forest as he thought of the werewolf. Lupin had taken them to a wardrobe in an unused classroom for a practical lesson. He had answered a question at the start of the class and had earned five points in spite of thankfully being skipped over when the boggart had been passed around the class.

Astori – Greengrass continued, "And I found that a lot of people had the same kind of boggart: A lot of people had boggarts that were animals that had attacked them when they were young, like spiders, bees, or rabid dogs. And others had boggarts that were creatures they had never met but had visited them in nightmares. Like werewolves, vampires, and mummies."

She paused. "And once I thought about it, I realized that a lot of us had illegitimate fears."

The wind began to blow again, starting as a slow but strong breeze. The castle was almost completely dark now. A screeching sound came from the Forbidden Forest and a light from a rosy fire came from the gamekeeper's hut near it.

Astor—The Greengrass girl turned away from him to look below. Speaking even more quietly, she said, "I mean, I'm afraid of snakes because one snake bit me eight years ago. Theodore Nott's boggart is a chimera, but he's never even seen one yet. Padma Patil's afraid of sharks, but she's never been near the ocean before."

The breeze made way for a gustier wind. Leaves began to fall from the outermost trees in the forest.

The Greengrass girl began tracing her finger absent-mindedly along the stone floor. She went on, "Many people have boggarts that are almost ridiculous, that probably aren't even their deepest fears."

She turned her head toward Draco, but didn't look at him. "A war's starting. It's coming soon, if it isn't already here. Is my deepest fear still a snake…compared to losing my parents or sister or friends to the battles to come?"

She said this in a whisper; her tone was nowhere near accusing. But still Draco's cheeks flamed up and a guilty heart thudded in return.

The Greengrass girl met his eyes for a minute before both their gazes turn elsewhere.

"No," she whispered, as she looked down at the abandoned Quidditch field below. "No, I don't think my deepest fear is a snake anymore. If anything, it's The Snake. Voldemort."

He flinched. The Greengrass girl regarded him calmly as she said, almost conversationally, "But even him I cannot be afraid of because he wants me to be afraid."

The breeze had turned into a storm. The girl's hair whipped around her. Draco shrunk back as the sharp wind hit him in the face.

Greengrass looked at him, saying quietly, "Our boggarts show trivial things because we're not brave enough to face our real boggarts. Potter's boggart is a dementor. He fears fear. He fears being afraid. Professor Lupin's was a full moon. His boggart showed something that attacked him not once or twice, but something that he battles with every month. They're true Gryffindors, with the courage to face their fears."

The wind begins to calm down again. Draco tried not to sneer at Potter's name.

The girl's face softened. "You know, your boggart is closer to your real fear than my boggart is to mine. It hurts more when your attacker is not a sworn enemy but is close to home. You were harmed by family, not by an outsider. Your boggart is more legitimate than mine."

She smiled a little. Draco, who had been avoiding her gaze, met hers cautiously. The dark brown eyes looked kind.

The wind was getting smaller now. Draco felt something wrap around his knee.

Her hand.

He stared at it uncomprehendingly then looked up at its owner. The girl's smile was gone, but her look was sincere.

"We're not Gryffindors. We're no lions; we're snakes. But, Malfoy, I hope you don't mind my saying this, but…I think it might be time to lion up a little."

The wind had stilled. Not a single thing moved or made a sound.

Neither did Draco.

After a minute or so of complete silence, the Greengrass girl got up. Smoothing out her wrinkled skirt and robes, she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"See you," she murmured and started to head over to the door. Clearly, she was embarrassed. And…disappointed?

A breeze swept across the tower. Not a single light in the castle remained. The fire from the gamekeeper's hut had been snuffed out. The Dog Star smiled at you and the moon shone. The door creaked as the small girl opened it.

"Astoria."

She turned around to see Draco beside her.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Her voice did its best not to break.

Draco looked at her and stayed quiet. And just as she was about to turn back to go down the stairs, he offered her his arm.

"A lady should have an escort at this time of the night."

His voice was rough and no smile graced his features. But as Astoria searched his till slightly red-rimmed eyes, she saw him convey this thanks.

Astoria smiled gently.

"I'll be delighted. Thank you, Malfoy."

"Draco," he countered, as she took his arm.

Their eyes meet again, and for the first time, a smile could be seen in his eyes.

"Draco," she agreed, smiling right back.

If a vortex, had appeared in the tower at that precise moment, Draco Malfoy wouldn't have gone near it for the world.

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><p>AN: The character I got was Draco Malfoy and the prompts I was given were "boggart", "party", and "vortex." I've never written fanfiction before - having always preferred my own characters, but I had fun with this fic. :) The funny thing is that I didn't realize that I was a Draco/Astoria shipper until I began writing this fic! Romance isn't usually my thing, but I hope you liked it. :) Reviews would be greatly, greatly appreciated. :)) See you next time!


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